After the regular interrogation lasted for two hours, Coleman finally lost his patience.
"Hasn't he confessed yet?"
Walking into the secret room, he saw Henry, who was already pale, slumped in the chair with his head tilted to one side. He turned his gaze to his two subordinates.
"What's going on?"
The captain looked at his watch.
"It's been two hours, and we're in a hurry. We must get the accurate information before the Arican notices, or I can't report to M."
"This guy..."
One agent wiped the sweat from his neck and gently shook his head, saying, "He hasn't spoken yet. He's undergone anti-interrogation training, like all Navy intelligence personnel. It seems it will take so ti."
"We don't have ti."
Coleman walked to the side, took a tal box from the cabinet.
He opened the silver case, and inside the shockproof padding lay a row of syringes filled with truth serum, which glimred nacingly under the blue light.
He took one of the syringes and moved in front of Henry, leaning over to his forr colleague, speaking in a slow but indifferent tone:
"Last chance, Henry. What does the cargo ntioned in the ssage refer to? Where is it sent? What is Song Heping's next move?"
Henry's tilted head moved slightly, his gaze fell on the syringe in Coleman's hand, and the muscles on his face twitched slightly.
As a forr intelligence officer, he knew very well what was inside.
The air in the secret room turned heavy.
Henry's heart began to race.
Truth serum.
This stuff can easily be fatal.
"Captain, are you going to treat an old friend like this?"
In the end, he actually grinned.
"You're not our old friend anymore. Now you're a friend of the KB elents, Henry. I gave you a choice, and this will be the last."
Henry remained silent.
Coleman finally lost his patience and handed the syringe to the agent beside him.
"Proceed with the thods, I'll sign off."
After finishing speaking, he turned and left.
When he reached the door, Henry's crude curse ca from behind.
The constant hum of the white noise generator on the second underground floor persisted. Coleman's leather shoes crushed the third cigarette butt on the ground as he turned and walked back into the interrogation room.
In the interrogation room behind the one-way glass, Henry was bound to a specially designed dental chair, with a venous drip stand hanging pale blue liquid.
"How's it going?"
He asked the agent inside.
"An old trick." One agent adjusted the EEG monitoring electrodes, "A modified version of Sodium Pentothal-X, best combined with amygdala electric shocks."
Coleman tapped the stainless steel tray with a pen, neatly arranged with seven syringes of different colors.
"Start with the α-2 adrenergic receptor antagonist."
He picked the amber-colored agent.
"First, dismantle his sympathetic nerve defenses."
As the needle pierced the jugular vein, Henry's pupils suddenly dilated.
On the monitoring screen, the brainwaves plumted from beta waves to theta waves, and the activity of the prefrontal cortex was snuffed out like a candle.
"Tell ..."
Coleman opened Henry's eyelids; under the ultraviolet light, the patterns of the iris were clearly visible.
"The container number in zone B3."
Henry's jaw muscles twitched, but his masticatory muscles were still taut. Coleman gestured to the technician, who then pressed the controller.
The implanted microelectrodes behind Henry's ear suddenly released a 2 milliampere current, precisely stimulating the amygdala's fear center.
"Ah—!"
The roar turned into a muffled sound in the soundproof walls.
Coleman took the opportunity to press sniffing salts under his nose; the ammonia molecules forcibly activated the arousal system.
On the monitoring screen, the hippocampal region suddenly lit up with red spots.
"The container... TKMRU..." Henry's teeth chattered, "Seven-link set..."
Coleman imdiately grabbed a satellite phone to call up the shipping database.
Containers starting with TKMRU belonged to the Turkish Shipping Company and had recently docked at Djibouti Port, precisely a set of seven specialized containers.
"Continue."
He injected the second transparent agent.
"Abdul's security loopholes."
Henry's facial muscles began to twitch uncontrollably, a sign of the drug acting on the basal ganglia.
His eyeballs rolled quickly, as if watching an invisible movie.
"eting... alliance... chef..."
Henry's throat bobbed, his eyes starting to roll upwards.
"On the 15th of this month... Mogadishu..."
Coleman stared intently at the voice recorder in front of him.
Under the effects of the truth serum, the subject often babbles incoherently.
Among all the fragnted words may lie the most secret information.
Many phrases might sound nonsensical, but through the professional analysis of agents, combined with other recent intelligence, a substantial amount of information can be gleaned, extracting the most useful parts.
15th?
Mogadishu?
eting?
Coleman's brow furrowed tightly.
He strongly recalled all the information recently gathered by the Africa branch.
Suddenly, a flash of light crossed his mind.
"Continue!"
He appeared sowhat excited.
"Tell , what exactly will happen in Mogadishu on the 15th?!"
Henry fell silent again.
Coleman's inducent seed ineffective.
"Increase the dose!"
Coleman turned and instructed his subordinates.
"Make him speak quickly!"
"Captain, the dose is already quite high. If we continue to increase it..."
"I said increase it! I'm responsible!"
Coleman interrupted his subordinate roughly.
"Yes!"
The agent imdiately shut up and turned to execute the command as the captain ordered.
As the third deep red agent was pushed into the vein, Henry's left arm suddenly straightened.
The monitor showed dopamine levels soaring to dangerous levels, a sign of mory recall.
"The ammo is hidden in the frozen shrimp boxes."
His voice suddenly beca extraordinarily clear.
"MP5K, M4A1... hidden in the belly of the giant grouper..."
With that, he stopped answering again.
Coleman stood up abruptly, "What else?!"
The interrogation room suddenly sounded the alarm, and Henry's heart rate reached 180.
The agent responsible for the interrogation swiftly injected an antagonist, but Coleman held his wrist.
"Another 30 seconds."
"Captain..."
"Execute the order!"
"Gathering... Mogadishu Old Port..."
Henry's pupils dilated to the edges.
"Crane... sniper point..."
A coordinate was imdiately marked on the holographic map.
The gantry crane at the old port overlooks the entire old port area, a straight distance of 500 ters—practically a firing range for a professional sniper.
As Henry began to foam at the mouth, Coleman finally signaled to stop.
He removed the blood-stained rubber gloves, looking at the keyword cloud extracted from the monitoring screen: container number, cold chain transport ti, sniper post... all the information was gradually piecing together like a puzzle.
"Quick, save him."
Coleman instructed the other two agents.
He was very satisfied at this mont, having obtained the necessary information.
With this information, analysts could soon put together a complete intelligence report.
He cast one last glance at the convulsing Henry, a forr colleague who had once been on overseas missions together in Belgrade, now limp like a ragdoll tied to the electric-seized chair.
"Sorry, Henry, it's a matter of duty."
Finished, he briskly left the interrogation room, returned to the surface, took a laptop from the living room on the first floor, imported the audio data from the recorder, and then picked up the satellite phone to dial a number.
"There's an urgent piece of data that needs to be analyzed imdiately. A complete briefing within an hour, I need to report to M at once."
"No problem."
A very confident voice ca from the other end.
"Piece of cake."
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